


Prey

by DominantPomegranate



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Chases, F/M, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Stuck in the wall, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominantPomegranate/pseuds/DominantPomegranate
Summary: prompt: "Yooooo!! You’re my guilty pleasure blog and your writing is so 🌶 ✨ Can I get a Michael Myer scenario with a prey who just keeps getting away, no matter how close he gets to finally capturing them - they ALWAYS manage to escape (make it n//f/w if thou hearts desire)"alternatively: "all the times you escaped, and the one time you didn't."





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me here to commission/request from me:
> 
> yandere-inamorata.tumblr.com
> 
> https://twitter.com/pom_inamorata

You, out of all of his victims, had irked him the most, and it would only make things worse for yourself each time you escaped. You were just too damn fast and slippery for your own good, and it had Michael breathing fast as he chased you– whether it was from exertion or arousal, he wasn’t quite sure.

You were also too damn smart, always out playing Michael at every turn. It was part of the reason he liked you so much. You thought like a killer, guessing what he would do next just before he did it. The way you slipped through his fingers every time drove him crazy– had him clenching his knife just a little tighter in his hand, fingers flexing on the handle and imagining it was your throat. Imagining he was pinning you down, watching you squirm underneath him as he carved up your ankles, ensuring you could never run from him again.

But he had to catch you first. Your luck had to run out one of these days, and he would make sure to be there when it happened. 

That day was closer than he had anticipated. Michael had tracked you into a large warehouse– crates, windows, small side placed rooms, winding staircases and walkways making it difficult for either of you to make much ground on the other. You were dashing around corners, jumping over crates as Michael slowly gained ground on your evading form. You couldn’t seem to shake him as easily today, and it was making you paranoid. 

You tried not to worry too much. You always managed to escape his sights eventually. Today would be no different. You just had to–

A knife whizzed past your face, embedding itself into the wall and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Did he… Did he just throw the knife?! He had never done that before, and you distantly wondered if you had finally pushed your luck. You had taken it too far and slipped out of his grasp in uncanny ways just one too many times.

Your shock gave him enough time to close some of the distance, his advancing figure finally snapping you out of your surprise as you dashed away just as he went to grab you. You spotted a nearby window, making haste to reach it as you went to throw yourself through it and away from him.

In your frenzy, you didn’t notice the stick precariously holding the window open, said prop falling from it’s place as you struggled to push yourself through the space– causing the framed glass to fall down as you were only halfway through the sill, settling on your lower back as its weight thwarted your struggles to escape. There it stuck, your angle unfit for pushing the stubborn wood back up.

Your heart was beating quickly as you kicked your legs, trying to wriggle your midsection out when you felt… it.

It wasn’t any sort of touch, really just more of a presence. You could feel his stillness behind you, and you wondered why he wasn’t tearing you out of your position, or cutting off your legs or just stabbing you–

You felt a hand rest itself on your hip.

Oh.

“N-No, no, no! Hey, you–” You shouted, kicking your legs wildly once more as his hand began caressing to your lower back. “Stop that! Kill me or something, just get your hands off me!”

It was difficult to get any real leverage with the corners of the sill pressing against your soft midsection, making it hard to breath each time you tried to bang on the wall below you instead of supporting your weight.

You felt his hand trace downward, brushing the weight of his hand down the back of your ass, thumb dipping inward towards your inner thighs– not yet touching anything dangerous, but too close for comfort. You couldn’t do much more than wriggle and yell for him to stop or for help.

His hand ventured back upward, grabbing a handful of your ass as you squeaked. You thought Michael was some sort of celibate, only ever thinking about murder or his sister or whatever, so why now–

You jumped as his second hand joined the fray, taking a place on your other hip, holding you still as he saddled up behind you to experimentally press his hips against your own backside. The situation was finally hitting you now. You wouldn’t have a quick, impersonal death like the rest of his victims. Michael intended to use you in whatever way he desired.

Which currently constituted as grinding the outline of his cock against the apex of your thighs like high schoolers at prom– earning a soft whimper from you, free hand coming up to cover your mouth as the other supported your weight. It seemed that Michael had finally had his fill of grinding against you, opting instead to start yanking at your jeans as he stripped you.

He took a moment to relish in your black panties, fingers skimming along the edge of the soft cloth before dipping underneath, feeling the skin there. It was smooth and supple– nothing like his own scarred flesh, calloused from years of terrorizing those weaker than him.

“Quit it– p-please, stop!” You pleaded, tears burning at your eyes as he hooked one digit into the waistband of your underwear, pulling your last line of defense off your hips in one smooth motion.

The air of the warehouse was cold against the flesh of your pussy– Michael’s hands were even colder as a, surprisingly light, finger traced up your slit, bumping along your clit when he passed it, stopping only for a moment to inspect the little nub.

To your chagrin, your body was responding, unable to damper the pleasure his little touches brought. You tried thinking of anything else as his finger passed along your slit with a little more pressure this time– how the sill dug into your midsection, the scrapes on your elbows and knees, the little cuts on your face from running through the forest previous– anything to distract from the way one, thick finger finally pushed into you.

Michael was by no means a small man, not even one of his features rebelling against the rest in size, including his fingers. He was stretching your entrance with just one digit, the pad of his finger pressing against your walls as he searched for the spots that would make you squeak and moan. It didn’t take long for him to find it, retreating his digit in favor of adding in another. This action alone had you panting, the stretching sensation back in double and burning.

Luckily, your body was more than happy to provide some slick to ease Michael’s work, quickly covering his long fingers as they rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot at your front wall. You wondered distantly if he could hear you keening and panting through the window, begging him to stop in a small voice through your pitiful struggles.

His fingers slipped out of you, pushing upwards to slide along the sides of your clit. You shivered and sighed– where had he even learned how to do that? Had he done this to some other poor soul before brutally ending them? 

You froze when his fingers left you, straining as you heard the rustling sound of him rearranging his clothes behind you– unbuttoning, unzipping maybe– you couldn’t decipher until you felt the tell-tale burn of his hot length against your ass. Your struggles renewed two-fold, trying to pull yourself through the window as he rubbed his length in the valley of your ass-cheeks. 

You actually felt the window give for a moment, allowing you nearly two inches as hope flowed through you once more– only for Michael to grab at your hips, lining up the head of his cock at the lips of your pussy. He pulled you back, returning you to your previous position as he started to push the head in.

You keened as he pushed in, thankfully taking it slow, but that didn’t deter the stretch you felt at just the head. 

Like you had said before. Michael was not a small man. Apparently, that included his cock.

The head popped past your hymen, and you whimpered as he pushed on, his cock curving upward to press against your walls as he worked himself into you. You could only think about how it wasn’t fair– why was he so much bigger than you? Why could his hands cover so much of your hips? Why was it so easy for him to keep you still as he gave the final, harsh thrust to hilt himself within you?

You felt the head of his dick kiss your cervix, sending a trill of pain down your spine. You felt stuffed, like a doll far too small for this sort of purpose. Or, maybe he was a giant, or–

You felt his hands grabbing at you. Not to feel you, no, but grabbing at your thighs as one, large hand lifted the window sill up just enough for him to flip you over before letting it fall again, knocking the air out of you before he started a heavy and slow pace.

You desperately wanted to keep your eyes closed, hands pushing against the glass as you scrabbled for support, but your morbid curiosity won over. You opened your eyes, the sight of Michael’s emotionless mask looking down at you as he wrapped your thighs around his hips-- filling you up as the new angle introduced different hellish pleasures, his cock pressing against your stomach and hitting the most sensitive spots deep within you.  
You wished he would just get it over with instead of setting this torturous pace, intent on feeling your walls clench and flutter around him as he used you, large, calloused hands stroking along your thighs as he pulled you into each thrust.

You could feel it, the building of a hot knot within you as the stoic man ground the head of his cock into your walls, earning a shiver and your walls to squeeze tighter around him.

You could tell he wouldn’t last much longer, especially with how his pace was quickening, opting to chase his own pleasure instead of torturing you with your own. He was growling lowly, hands keeping you still as he began pounding into you, rolling his hips to keep you moaning.  
This new pace had you crying out in pleasure, unable to stifle your noises or refuse the stimulation as he had you cumming on his cock-- thrusting through your climax as your thighs twitched before finally hilting within you.

His cock twitched within you, and you could feel his warmth seeping into you as he came against your cervix. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You couldn’t believe he actually came inside you. Well, of course he would. He was going to kill you after this, so he didn’t have to worry about--  
Michael had never noticed how you had ripped off the sleeve of your shirt, wrapping it around your fist in order to smash it into the glass of the window. It had certainly surprised him, the glow of his orgasm relaxing him enough for you to grab a piece of glass and stab it into his hand on your thigh. 

The two of you shouted in pain, the glass having ran through his hand and into your thigh and Michael pulled away as though he had been burned. It gave you enough time to push up the sill of the window, kicking off of his midsection and out of the window.

The space was too small for him to fit through, so he had no choice but to watch as you fled on the other side dipping around a corner to run far, far away.

Somehow, he wasn’t so mad this time. It meant he would get to catch you again. And again. And again.


End file.
